Obsessive
by EmmaRiddleDaughteroftheDark
Summary: Obsessive... that’s what they called me... Obsessive. Colin Creevey views his time at Hogwarts and those around him a tad differently than his peers. But what happens when he'll do anything he has to in order to get what he obsesses over?


Obsessive

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters. I am not profitting from this is any way.

Author's Note: This story is pretty much canon, from Colin's warped view, until the seventh book. It skewers off there, and does not follow the seventh book seemingly at all.

* * *

Obsessive... that's what they called me... Obsessive. Since when is it obsessive to take a few pictures of your idol? Since when is it obsessive to learn your best friend's class schedule? Since when is it obsessive to casually discuss someone who's famous? Since when am I obsessive?

Ginny understood. She always had a bit of a crush on Harry. She learned his class schedule. She whispered secrets to me about him. She watched him as he moved around the room. She LIKED him. But, that's what brought us close as friends. We always had something in common. We had Harry.

We were best friends. We shared him. He could have been our best friend in a heartbeat. But he didn't really want to. So we followed him like shadows. Maybe he'd change his mind. Maybe he'd give in.

All of first year, we were close. Well, first year was rather short for me... but that wasn't her fault! It was that Riddle guy's! She told me. And I believed her. One hundred percent believed. She wasn't the type to lie.

I remember the specific moment when I first saw her as more than a friend. We were both in the common room in our first year. It was the last night of school, so most people were packing their whole year's worth of supplies in their trunks and going to sleep. Ginny, however, was just sitting there in front of the fire, wringing her hands. Of course, I didn't learn everything I could about my Weasley friend, but I had talked to her roommate, Cierra. She told me that Ginny murmured in her sleep about that boy named Tom. And it hurting. And how her hands were black with ink. In fact, that's what jumped to the front of my mind when I noticed her sitting there. She kept staring at her hands like the heat from the fire would expose some invisible ink that stayed there.

I swung into the seat next to her, being my usual joyful self. At first, she didn't really act like she noticed me, but then her chocolate doll eyes sadly met mine. She watched me without blinking for about a million minutes, her soul creeping out to meet mine. But she looked down, and she said in a low undertone her apology. Immediately, I forgave her. She'd been through so much and she was my best friend, after all. Why would I keep her in suspense? While her eyes were closed, in relief I'm sure, I stealthily snapped a picture of her. I don't know why I did it. Maybe the moment called for it, so that I could remember always how she looked at that moment.

In any case, when I arrived home at my Muggle residence, I shut myself into my darkroom. Carefully, and with a slight help from my wand, I developed that lone picture. Only when I saw her pale face slightly pinched with tears, did I realize how much I wanted to make her smile. Only when I could see her move, so close to me, yet really so far away, did I realize how much I wanted her near me. It's when I realized how much I pined for her. I desired her.

I needed some more pictures. Just for me. I needed to be able to see her whenever I missed her. But, I would have to be sneaky. She didn't allow herself to be photographed often. I don't know why, but she didn't like to be seen...

* * *

I never quite figured out why Ginny gave up on her feelings for Harry. All I know is, at the end of our third year, she had ditched our little "club" and was dating Michael Corner. Oh, to her credit, we were still best friends. But with the thing we most had in common gone, her attention somewhat shifted. And I was left alone. I didn't blame her. People drift apart. That's how life goes. But Michael Corner?

When she told me their sweet, little story about meeting at the Yule Ball, I could have gagged. Just because he was older... just because he was smart, being Ravenclaw after all... just because he was not obsessed with the boy-who-lived... in short, everything I wasn't. I seethed. She could have had me at any moment, yet she chose some pig-headed Ravenclaw! I was furious! Couldn't she tell that I loved her?

For the first time in about a year, I picked up my camera. I learnt all I could about Corner and took pictures all the way. It took longer than I anticipated for me to catch him. But I immortalized his darkest secrets on film.

By that point, Ginny was Gryffindor seeker. It was deep into our fourth year, but she was so serious about him, I was scared they'd never break up. So I had to continue with my plan. True, that period of stalking was a little wrong. But completely necessary. She had been dating this... freak for months before I could finally find the fault. I showed Corner the pictures and had him BEGGING me to name my price to keep my mouth shut and my photos sealed away. All I told him was "Get rid of Ginny."

It took about a week and a half for him to successfully sulk and act horribly enough for her to break up with him. Ginny buried herself into my arms, wondering what she'd done to lose her first REAL boyfriend like that. I comforted her, smiling slyly to myself as I stroked her tresses of red. My hands smelt like lilies for three days after that. I decided that my camera could be my savior. It had brought me to heaven, her in my embrace.

* * *

For a short time in fifth, Dean Thomas became the object of her affection. But soon enough, he drifted out of her life as smoothly as he'd entered, without me even needing to lift a lens. So much happened in so short a time. Gryffindor won! My Ginny had brought them to victory. I went to sleep early that night, visions of her dancing through my head, so I missed the party. Apparently, I missed a great deal.

It was boiling outside when my world fell down. Ginny asked me to meet her on the Quidditch Pitch to tell me something. Things in my mind just snapped. The place where she had triumphed the previous day... something important to tell me... my heart stopped. I just KNEW that she was finally going to admit her feelings for me! I KNEW it.

As soon as I saw her hair blowing with the wind, I darted to her. I couldn't waste another moment without her. I stroked her cheek with the tips of my fingers, and then lightly touched my mouth to her. My first kiss with her, my true love!

My first kiss at all...

I thought I could feel her lips react, kissing me back softly, but then her hands came up to my chest and pushed me away, ordering me back silently. "Colin!" Her eyes were widened in shock. My cheeks burnt with humiliation. If not that, then what? "Oh, god, Colin..." she whispered. What? Why was she looking at me like that? Why was it like she didn't know me anymore? Her eyes broke free from mine and moved around, taking in the grass, the pitch, the stands... anything but me. She was so astonished and embarrassed that I could see the tears pooling up, leaning on the gentle arch of her eyelashes. What? "I didn't know..." Didn't know? Didn't know how I'd react, maybe.

"Tell me, Ginny," I calmly coerced her. She needed to get it all out in the open. Because maybe when she did, she'd stop looking at me like that...

A wistful smile grew on her face as she close the space between us. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach my height. She had always been small, unlike the rest of her family. Both hands rested on my shoulders, but I couldn't even glance at them before her voice came in my ear. "Colin..." she breathed, causing my skin to tingle. Oh. If only I could bottle her saying that word... She looked behind her, and then leaned back in. Her lips brushed my cheek before she finally made herself say it:

"Oh, Colin. I thought I should tell you that I'm... dating... Harry." Time stopped. The world quit revolving mid-circle. Everything ground to a halt. I had to remember how to even breathe. "I'm so sorry." She pushed away. Don't leave me; I yearned to yell at her. But my throat was closed, blocked by all the words I wanted to scream. "I didn't know how you felt." She ran, leaving me behind in a place of conquest, of smiles. She ran, leaving ME behind...

My voice refused to work. As hard as I tried, I couldn't force myself to cry at her to return to me. I felt my legs shiver and give out, dropping my body to the grass. A handful of dust swirled around me. Hot, angry tears poured from my eyes. Ginny was mine!

How could my idol and hero and _best friend_ steal her away? I stumbled over to where my bag had fallen and reached inside to pull out my camera. But then... he had no huge secrets, Nothing I could catch on film. He was the boy-who-lived! Everyone would know all his secrets if he dared to have any. I had to be cleverer than that. No routine. Something... original. Something... harsh.

I trudged my weary body all the way through spindly staircases and crowded hallways to get back to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny was already there, seated in a corner, books strewn around her, writing her Charms essays that I'd forgotten about. I paused, watching her delicately scratch her quill to the paper. She flipped her hair out of her perfect face and that's when she saw me. "Colin..." Oh, don't do this Ginny...

I rushed forward, before she could continue her thoughts. I needed to spit out the words that had been running through my mind since she left. If I didn't I'd choke on them... But would my voice obey me this time? "I wanted to apologize for earlier," I heard the words I'd rehearsed for an hour leave my mouth at last. I needed her to trust me again. "I'm so happy for you and... Harry." Damnit! Even with all the practicing, I couldn't help but pause as I said his name. My mind didn't seem to grasp that it was SUSPICIOUS TO PAUSE AT HIS NAME! Her mouth partly opened before I regained my senses and launched into a sentence, cutting off whatever thought she may have had. "Yes, I did have a... er... slight crush on you, but don't worry, Skinny. No hard feelings. None at all. I wish him all the best with you." Sorry for my lies, Ginny. She hesitated a moment before catapulting into my arms.

"Oh, Colin! I knew you'd be happy for us!" If only you knew, my little Weasley.

* * *

We were riding the train home after Dumbledore's death. Everything was pretty much silent except for the clicking of the train on the tracks. There was a mood in the air that can't be explained... but it made a bunch of hormonal, free-for-the-summer teenagers sit in their seats with solemnity.

That's when she told me she was no longer with Harry. She said it without pause or emotion, but I knew her too well for that. The tricks she could pull with her roommates or even her brothers wouldn't work for me. Hastily, I stood and closed the door to our compartment so we were shut off and sat next to her, close enough that I could see her chest moving rhythmically with each mechanical breath. Taking her hand, her rigidity seemed to loosen, and her spine curved slightly.

"Tell me how you really feel," I urged her, meant for this role I was playing. I could see that she skipped a breath in between my asking and her answering the question.

"I love him..." she confided in me. That's when the dam broke and tears interrupted her words. Picking apart the nonsensical words that came with the downpour of water from the phrases I could understand, I learnt a lot. She told me everything they had done together, which was not much considering how beautiful and perfect she was, everything they had said to each other, and everything he planned to do about Vol... You-Know-Who.

The plan I had been constructing, or failed to construct, fell apart and a new one erected in its place. So many ideas raced around my brain, begging to be picked. I could write an Owl to Voldemort and tell him about this- horcrux?- plan of Harry's. But something stopped me mid-plan. Ginny. I couldn't lose her faith. Were Voldemort to find out, she would know I told him. And then she would KNOW... but then, there was always something fool proof. Something that couldn't be traced back to me.

And that's what I did. I sent Harry a letter via owl and I followed its progress across Britain until it arrived and was even answered. _Found you, Harry. Number 4, Privet Drive_. Then I waited. It didn't take long. Every week or so, Ginny would send me a letter, discussing her worries. I would have responded. I wanted to assure her that soon there would be nothing to worry about at all. But then it wouldn't be a surprise.

The eve of Harry's eighteenth birthday was his last night on Privet Dive, I knew. That was the night. The glorious night... And when it came, I snuck into his bedroom four minutes into his birthday; he was rocking back and forth, holding his head, oblivious. Was he so sure of himself and his (now lack of) protection that he was not on alert? I was there, wasn't I? As I crept nearer, he looked up. "Colin?"

"_STUPEFY_!" His body slumped against the wall. Removing the knife from my belt, I took his wrists in my hand and I cut. I slashed through the muscle like layer of skin, so firm and resisting. Juicy... I sliced open his forearm with a sickening squelch and moved the blade through the thick and unyielding skin until his little blue vein popped into my eye's view. Smiling, my blade nicked the tiny source of life and I smelt the copper, room-infesting smell before I ever saw blood squirt from his swelling vein. It smelt good. Bitter. Like revenge.

Once a fair and substantial amount of life had fallen, I moved my silver friend away from his arm and reached for my wand to fix his skin. But... Temptation arose in me. Swooping low to the floor where his limp arm hung, I pursed my lips and drank in his life. How sweet it was. Sweet like mother's milk. I would never taste heaven like that again, I was sure. At least, not until I had Ginny.

Bursting with adrenaline and blood, I crudely patched his skin with my wand. Not the wound, mind you. Just the skin. The vein was still severed from my little silver friend. And it would bleed out into his own body, with him none the wiser. I needed him weak – but alive – for what I knew would occur.

What I had helped occur...

Licking my lips, I felt the blood that had painted them – coated them until it was practically make-up. Still so sweet. Oh, yes.

* * *

The next morning, Harry rubbed his sore wrists. Hermione and Ron nervously watched the motion before they asked if he was SURE he was okay, but he ignored them. His gaze turned to me, studying him, but there was no betrayal in his eyes. Yet. He didn't remember what happened. I'm not an idiot. I knew how to cover my tracks. He was just a curious little puppy.

Turning away, I looked up to where I knew Ginny was hiding – watching. We stood in the graveyard at Little Hangleton. Somehow, the address we were at was supposed to intimidate Harry. But he just looked tired. The Order stood behind us, waiting. Voldemort had been the one to order this duel to the death, and deciding it would be better to fight prepared than to fight blind sighted, the Order had agreed. There were only a few stipulations: No group attacks, meaning man-to-man fighting; no disappearing once the fighting had begun until it was over; and lastly, the Death Eaters had ordered Draco Malfoy to remain free of the battle, and the Order had chosen Ginny Weasley to be the safe one. Maybe Harry still cared for her. Or maybe I was just lucky.

I didn't know or care where Draco Malfoy hid. But Ginny was in the abandoned house a few hundred meters off from the cemetery. I could almost catch a glimpse of her hair through a window when a gravestone exploded to our right, Bellatrix Lestrange pointing her wand at it. They'd come. Immediately, spells were flying through the air. I mainly stayed unopposed – just running throughout the battle scene – as the Death Eaters wished to not reveal my loyalties... yet...

Suddenly, I felt something rush into my back with the force of a train, causing me to drop to my knees. "Hello, little Colin Creepy," Blaise Zabini taunted as he held me at his wand's mercy. Moving swift as a cat in front of me, he laughed. "Thought Saint Potter would protect you?" He snickered again, much to my growing agony. I could see a Death Eater begin to hurry over to stop him. But it couldn't be revealed that way!

"_Avada Kedavra_!" I hoarsely yelled, seeing the green light shoot from my wand, knocking him into a stone angel. For a moment, I just looked at his still body. Then at my hands... such power came from them... it felt so delectable.

I could feel the eyes burning into the back of my skull. But no one said a word. No one threatened Azkaban or cried out. It was The Final Battle – the one we'd always waited for and feared. You were either the diner or the dinner. You either killed or you were killed. It was as simple as that.

The signal came at me just like we'd planned. Lucius Malfoy pinned me to the ground with the Cruciatus curse. Pain. Red, hot pain filled my head, threatening to burst. I gasped, trying to breathe, but all I felt was daggers entering my lungs. I'd never feel my skin constrict so tightly – like it would tear into a million shreds with the smallest movement. Yet I kept thrashing, unable to keep still. Then the cold, clammy hand of fog wiped my face. The pain was no more than a lingering torture.

"Hurry, boy!" Lucius urged quietly as I stood on legs as uneasy as a newborn fawn's. "He's waiting." The point of no return was near.

It was like my body was running on its own accord –completely on autopilot. I paused at the peak of the hill, taking in the entropy around me. Risking a look, I turned to see Ginny's small face watching me. Good. She needed to watch.

I heard Harry's yell before I had even turned back to see him. The Dark Lord was lazily twirling his wand, sending the boy-who-lived waves of pain. Regretfully, I knew how he felt and had to continue despite my knowledge. I braced myself and forced myself through the shield of the spell to protect Harry.

"Colin..." I heard him groan. "No!" I took on the spell like a blanket and it was a short time before the Dark Lord's footsteps were in my ear. He laughed maniacally, drawing attention from the surrounding battle.

"Why, Harry Potter! The 'noble' Harry Potter... using a mudblood to fight your battles?" Harry scrambled to his feet, leaving me panting on the hard ground. Yet anyone further away from me wouldn't have seen the energy it took him to bring himself upwards. And his wrist was a fair shade of purple from the pooling blood inside him. "Shame, Potter. Dumbledore couldn't teach you honor?"

From my viewpoint, I also noted Harry's strained, detached movements. Sweat glistened on his brow. He couldn't keep fighting. His little body was betraying him. I caught Vold – You-Know-Who's eyes. And smiled.

Knowing what it meant, he grinned from ear to ear before placing the tip of his wand right on the chest of the submissive, defeated Harry. "_Avada Kedavra_!" he yelled with all his voice; the force of the killing curse sent Harry's corpse flying head first into Tom Riddle Sr.'s own headstone. The irony.

He was dead. The boy-who- ... died. Harry Potter was dead. Everything was still. Not even the birds dared to sing. The Dark Lord, still grinning with malice, broke the sound of silence. "Take all those remaining and lock them in the basement," he ordered the nearest Death Eaters. "I'll deal with them later."

* * *

My arm was rubbed raw by the time I was thrown into a small cell. The dungeon, which was actually the Riddle's old wine cellar, seemed to be divided into several small quarters to hold the 'prisoners'. We were all split up among them. I was alone, curled up in the small pile of hay that would serve for a bed.

I could hear the others. Mainly they cried – loudly. Some of them prayed, for death or mercy, I knew not. Only a few bothered trying to scream. And those were the ones that the Death Eaters "took care of" first.

Every now and then, one of the Death Eaters would walk past, and I'd hope. I'd spring up, to be ready. But none brought me Ginny. Inwardly, I fumed. I even forgot myself and launched my fist into the stonewall in frustration, though that only brought me pain. Not Ginny. He promised me I'd have her. HE PROMISED ME!! I helped him kill that boy-who-fucking-lived. Where was my Ginny?

Suddenly, I heard boots hitting the floor, nearing me. I raised my head, allowing myself to hope once more. Then the door to my cell open; a clothed hand pushed in my Ginny before slamming off the rest of the world. It didn't take me long to see her cheeks stained with tears and her hands shaking harshly.

"Ginny..." I whispered, folding her into my arms. Her hair smelt like rain that time. Her ragged breaths contorted her body into mine. Oh, bliss. "Why did you not run?" I hadn't wanted her to run. We positioned her so if she tried to flee, she'd hit hordes of Death Eaters. But she didn't know that.

"I had to make sure..." she chocked out, her words breaking, raw, in her throat. "I had to see if it was true." I had to look her in the eyes before I realized she meant Harry's body. "They found me with him..." I could just imagine her frame wrenched with tears, tenderly caressing the dearly departed when they took her. It made me sick. "I saw you try to save him. You were so brave." I nearly opened my mouth to contradict – to tell her the truth when she held me tighter. My breath escaped me and I was trapped.

_Think of the plan_, I told myself. _She's fallen for it all until now. It's perfect. She's yours._ Mine...

A knock echoed through the cell. Ginny jerked up, trying to become one with the wall. I widened my eyes in fear. NOT HERE! NOT NOW! Lucius Malfoy entered the room, seemingly full of glee, but his eyes held malice in them. "Hello, Mr. Creevey. I trust your accommodations are preferable." Ginny couldn't even look up at him when he spoke, she feared him so. What did he have to do with anything involving her? I didn't know. I tried to signal him to leave, but then it hit me that this could have been the Dark Lord's plan all along.

Malfoy's eyes scanned the room before they rested on Ginny. He smiled. "We seem to have caught a Weasel in our trap." Two steps and he was practically on top of Ginny, his breath moving her hair. "A pretty one, that's for sure. But a weasel, nonetheless." He formed his lips into a dreadful smirk as he grazed them across her temple. "Maybe her looks could redeem her of her awful blood. Riddle seemed to think so. Luckily, she's the only one left of that horrid family." Lucius was blocking any move she could make, but at these words, Ginny slipped out of his loose hold and collapsed to the ground, silent tears rocking her body. That seemed to cheer him considerably.

"Why are you here?" I dared myself to yell. "Here to torture us? Haven't you done enough?" He just looked at me, the smile still apparent.

"Oh, no, Creevey. Not by a long shot," he drawled, leering at Ginny on the floor. "However," he added as he saw me begin to step towards him. "My Lord wishes to express some... ah... feelings he has towards your cause." Oh, God. Not now. "Thank you, my liege." He said through gritted teeth as he moved into a formal bow. "The Dark Lord is most grateful." I saw Ginny still, paralyzed, her ears straining to comprehend. "Without your help, he never could have victory against that pathetic child." My pulse pounded against my eardrums as he spoke. What would she think of me?

"Please, I don't think now—" I began before he cut me off.

"Now is the only and perfect time for this. Believe me," he looked at her. He looked at her!" It's better she knows." I resigned myself to whatever he had to say, knowing I couldn't stop him even if I had my wand. "To thank you properly for your allegiance," he started, bitterness edged into every word, "My Lord would like to give you your asking price," He gestured to Ginny who still had her body curled into a ball. "Along with placing you at third-in-command, after My Lord and myself." He paused, eyeing my face. "Our new empire needs security in leadership for whatever happens." For a moment, he paused, letting himself cool down. "Even if you are a mudblood – it is deserved. Thanks for your help in killing the bastard," he calmly stated. "Couldn't have done it without you." I caught Ginny's glaring eyes watching my every move from underneath her left arm. "Enjoy your trophy. You've earned it." He roughly grabbed Ginny around the waist, thrusting her off the ground and at me before swiftly leaving.

I didn't even get to fully appreciate the silence when her voice came. "Is it true?" No beating around the bush. No subtlety. Just a straight question. So I didn't even think of hedging on the truth. It didn't even occur to me, on top of everything I'd done that would send me to hell, to lie to her.

"I needed him gone so you could be mine. I did what I had to do." Her eyes pierced through my eyes into my soul. And what she saw sickened her. She saw everything – everything... – I'd done to get her. "I didn't want you to get hurt," I whispered, but she pulled away. "Her lips couldn't even form the words she wanted to say; they were too foul for her innocent mouth. "You were hurting." I rationalized. "Harry hurt you," I cooed, trying to reel her back to me with my smile and my hands.

"Harry _leaving_ me hurt me!" She countered, her voice rising until I was sure even Harry in heaven could hear. "What did you think I would do when you made him leave me for good?" She sputtered. "Lay down and open my legs?" Blush crept up my neck. She shouldn't say such things!

"I was just trying to save you!" I bellowed, stepping towards her in my attempt to intimidate. She calmly mirrored my movement in opposition, standing on her tiptoes to be at my eye level.

"Save me?" She backed up, taking a seat against the wall. "Colin... you just MURDERED us all." _Don't listen_, I told myself. _You're safe; she's safe. You're fine._

"You're safe! We're safe! We'll be safe together forever." I had taken her hand and knelt beside her. She seemed to have given up her anger and was crying again. "I have security, Gin. Power. Wealth. Admiration." Rolling her eyes, she jerked her hand away. "And I have you. My sweet," I kissed her check, "wonderful," her chin, "innocent," her neck, "Ginny." I don't know what possessed me to bite her shoulder so hard I left a mark, but I did it. Now everyone could see she was MINE.

"Oh, God, Colin. Don't do this. Please..." Her hands tried to push me away, but this time, I wouldn't let her. "Colin, don't." My chest felt like it was constricting. I couldn't get in a good breath. But I could still outline her lips and kiss every single space there. For a moment, she kissed back.

Then she thought better of it.

"You can't do this to me, Gin," I moaned, beginning to undo her shirt. She slapped my hand away, narrowing her eyes.

_I_ can't do this to _you_? Colin! Don't you see what you're doing?" I looked at her. And AT her. And up and down her. God, she was beautiful. And I could just see her womanly form. And the beginning of two curves where I had managed to unbutton a few of her buttons. Jesus Christ, I wanted her. So what if I was impatient? Too impatient to continue with buttons... I just ripped off everything she had left on. Then I pushed my weight onto her so that we were lying on that sparse pile of hay, me on top of her. "Stop it, Colin!! This isn't you!" She writhed under me, trying to get some sort of advantage. And remarkably, it felt GOOD when she did that.

I straddled her to keep her down. As I tried to remove my shirt, she attempted to worm her way away, but my hands were fast on her wrist. "Colin..." she pleased, biting her lip. "This isn't you. You're just confused..."

"Confused?" _Ginevra Molly Weasley: I thought you knew me._ "I've never wanted anything more clearly. I love you." She softened her gaze and looked at me somewhat pitifully.

"Not like this..." I did love her. Maybe I had to prove it. She apparently had lost her anger, so I lowered my mouth to her and kissed her gently. But her body still tried to repel me. "You see, you FREAK! You don't love me. You lust me. You're just... obsessed." Knowingly or not, she hit a nerve with that DISGUSTING word she used to describe me. I took off all the brakes at that moment.

"Right. And you're just mine."

She stopped fighting me. She didn't react at all. But I made her mine. I branded her as mine. Forever.

But how _dare_ she say that? Obsessed?

Since when is protecting the girl you love from certain heartbreak and constant worry obsessive? Since when is deciding what you'll do to be with your soul mate and doing it obsessive? Since when is taking what's rightfully yours without a regret in the world obsessive?

I thought over my choices and the great things I had won from them and asked the burning question to myself: Since when am I obsessive?


End file.
